


King's Comfort

by tinycrown



Series: adored characters: anduin [13]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post 8.3, Pre Shadowlands, Romance, features: wrathion turning himself into a portable heating pad for the sake of his boyriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23895280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinycrown/pseuds/tinycrown
Summary: It was one of those days. One of the worst kinds of pain that rarely showed up had decided to be a literal thorn in Anduin's side.Luckily, he's got a willing caretaker.
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Series: adored characters: anduin [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1221878
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	King's Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyAleister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAleister/gifts).



> I now have twitter back! Follow me @ crowneycrown!   
> I want to interact with you guyys :3 <3

The worst of the residual pain always crept up before he went to bed, sometimes just before he fell asleep. The ache would start at his ankle, crawl up his leg with bursts of stinging goosebumps, as if the mere wind could bruise his fair skin. When it reached his knee it would begin to pulse in tune with his heart, a constant throb that caught his throat and drew it shut like the opening to a sewn bag. Once it reached his hip, Anduin was completely immobile. He feared the paralyzing pain that on the worst of days would spread through his spine and leave him gasping for breath into his pillows.

This was one of those days. 

It had been only a mere three weeks since the defeat of N’zoth, three weeks since the darkest of screams had eased into whispers in the back of his mind. The tendrils that prodded his sanity and caused the pain in his leg to flare up more frequently than normal had all but eroded into… an almost disturbing silence. 

Anduin toed the line between Light and Shadow, though he strayed from the darkness, its whispers had become normal. The once annoying temptation was now gone, and he felt… almost lonely, when he was left alone of course- he did not feel the same disturbing silence with others than he did alone… when he was alone there was no noise. None at all. 

Even in the early morning, his spine and leg  _ screaming  _ despite him being completely still, the quiet drove him to uncontrollable tears. 

It wasn’t gut-wrenching, breath-stealing sobs, but quiet tears of pain that rolled down his cheeks and dampened his pillow. Those tears were all too familiar. He spent most of his pain-filled days back in Pandaria quietly crying into pillows, blankets… even a shoulder, at the worst of them. 

Anduin wished he had that shoulder now. Smelling of fire and earth, warm and secure and comforting.

Wrathion had returned from the fight exhausted and wounded, and though he was still upset with him, Anduin hadn’t hesitated to offer the care he  _ knew _ the foolish, stubborn dragon would never ask for himself. His pride was as thick as his hide. He hadn’t yet returned to Sithilus, and was residing in one of the guest chambers within the keep. 

Anduin used the strength of his quaking arms to push himself up off of his pillow, craning his neck to spot the new back and knee braces he’d received from Mekkatorque not long after his recovery in Mechagon. 

Gifts that he’d been working on for a long while, apparently, since before Dazar’alor. Anduin was incredibly grateful. Gelbin had said the braces he were using beforehand were ‘clunky’ and ‘outdated’, so he sought to build the young king two sleek, flexible yet supportive braces that fit under his clothes without much trouble. They weren’t quite as bulky as his previous ones. 

Anduin managed to maneuver his body to lean on the hip that wasn’t demanding he lay in a warm coffin and stay there forever, grasping the edge of his nightstand to use as a support of his weight, pushing himself up onto his wobbling legs. 

“Oh,  _ Light,  _ that was a mistake-” Anduin exhaled sharply as his… supposedly “good” leg began to throb, albeit milder than his current issue, but still paralyzing. “Stop it!” He sobbed, leaning over his nightstand as he fought to gain control of his limbs. 

Anduin pushed away from his nightstand and reached for the bedpost at the end of the canopy, clinging to the wood as his joints began to lock and buckle. 

His back said:  _ No.  _

Anduin managed the final push to his desk and shoved his chair outward so he could fall into it with a pained groan. He reached blindly for the black metal-and-linen brace, tugging against the strap and pulling it toward him. 

_ Why did I get out of bed again?  _

He heard a sudden, sharp knock at the door and flinched. 

“Who is it?” He asked, hopefully loud enough to be heard through the door. 

“Your ‘Advisor’.” Anduin rolled his eyes, practically  _ seeing  _ him quote with his fingers through the thick, intricately carved wood. 

“I just woke up, Wrathion, what do you want?” He leaned back against the chair and hissed at the protest from his ever-creaking spine. 

“Just woke up? It’s nearly ten thirty, your majesty. Surely you should have been up much, much earlier?” Anduin glared at the ceiling. 

“I had a rough night.” He replied tersely, wheezing as his knees knocked together when he tried to sit up. 

“Can I come in? I’ve brought you breakfast.” The wafting smell of eggs and tea made his stomach grumble in both hunger and disgust at the same time. Anduin knew that he needed to eat something at least, but… the thought wasn’t tempting. 

“Fine.” He said, reaching over to grasp the brace again, and turning away as the door clicked open. 

Wrathion was quick to reach his side and place the tray down with a quiet clink, snatching the brace from his trembling fingers and kneeling down in front of the chair. 

“What are you-?” 

“I figured it was something like this. Back then, whenever it was a bad day, you never woke up on time. Still don’t understand why you woke up at the crack of dawn when you were recovering anyways, but it was unusual. It still is, I take it?” His words were clipped and rushed, and the king almost had a hard time following along. Anduin managed a sluggish nod. 

“I wanted to practice routine…” Anduin defended his previously strange sleeping habits, and then glanced out the window, “whenever I’m not out of my chambers before seven, Genn always comes pounding at my door like a madman, demanding I roll out of bed but… I’ve never fully explained it to him. That’s my fault.” He flinched when Wrathion lined up the thick linen-covered metal plates against each side of his knee, tightening the strap and buckle and connecting each line. His hands were gentle where they applied pressure, and the king smiled softly. He reached forward and carded his hand through Wrathion's hair. The dragon pushed his head into his hand, never taking his eyes off of his leg. 

The brace went from about mid-thigh to mid-shin, and it was composed of buckles, metal plating, gears, and linen. There was a crank just on the outside knee of the brace, controlling the level of pressure that needed to be applied depending on the amount of pain in a specific area. There were even a few small cranks on top of the plates on his thigh. Light… his legs were so messed up. 

The brace, it was definitely handy. He would need to gift Mekkatorque appropriately as thanks. 

“Can you walk?” Wrathion asked, his hand resting gently on Anduin’s wrist. The king’s gaze flicked to his ungloved hand, lingering too long on the sharp black talons at the end of his calloused fingers. He turned his head slightly to stare at his face, more specifically his ever-glowing ruby eyes. Anduin attempted to slide his foot back, coming to a halt as a jolt of pain flew up his back. Wrathion frowned. “I’ll… take that as a no.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Anduin spat out bitterly, his breaths thick as he pushed himself up to stand shakily, reaching for the back brace. “I have a kingdom to tend to.” Light, his legs were wobbling like a newborn calf’s. 

He realized his predicament, letting his hand drop to the desk with a thump. Wrathion was standing quietly next to him, and the king could  _ feel  _ his pitiful gaze boring into the side of his head. 

“I… can’t stand on my own.” He murmured, handing the brace to Wrathion, who took it from him immediately. He felt the dragon’s hand on the side of his waist, squeezing gently as he lifted his shirt up to press the brace against his abdomen, and then tugged the king forward against his chest as he tightened and tied it in the back. 

Anduin pressed his cheek into his shoulder, eyes fixated on the thick gold necklace with his signature ruby shining in the hollow of his throat. His arms moved from the desk to wrap around the dragon’s back, smiling as Wrathion rested his head against the king’s. He worked deftly and gently, careful to avoid cutting or ripping anything with his claws.

“Are you sure the kingdom cannot tend to itself for a day?” Wrathion asked, pulling his shirt back down. Anduin sighed, a pained grimace crossing his face as he leaned back against the desk, his hand knocking against the breakfast tray. 

“You know it can’t,” he reached over to grasp the handle of the mug, taking a sip of the now cooled tea. “I’m sorry for being so crabby.” He apologized, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. He’d been nothing but rude to Wrathion, who was nice enough to bring him breakfast and help him with his braces. 

“It’s alright, I’m not upset… you forget I have experience.” He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Anduin smiled meekly and took another drink from his cup. 

“Well,” Anduin pushed himself up onto his shaky legs, muscles screaming and trembling for him to rest. Anduin ignored it and pushed through the pain. “Would you like to help me get dressed?” 

* * *

Just a mere few hours of paperwork had his legs crying out for movement. He couldn’t stay immobile forever despite the pain- even Velen had told him to keep moving when he felt such pains come on. Putting the tense muscle to use could possibly relax it and make the process of recovery stronger. It would begin to hurt less. 

Anduin shakily stood from his desk and dug his palms into the wood, shifting his legs to be wider apart as he tentatively eased his weight down. He needed to stand on his own, otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to walk for the rest of the day. The thought of merely collapsing every time he tried to was frustrating. 

He inhaled deeply, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds before pushing himself up from the desk, and forcing the ache in his back to shut up as he stumbled around his desk. He had a heavy limp, his shoulder leaning forward more than his other to extend an arm to catch himself if he fell. Light, he probably looked like one of those cursed zombies children always dressed up as on Hallow’s End. 

He shoved the door open, giving his guards a scare as his ragged form nearly toppled out of the doorway, clinging to the wood. Anduin looked up and sheepishly grinned at their wild, confused stares. 

“I-I just need to uhm,” he winced as his leg twitched, “I need to take a walk.” 

“Do you need an escort, your majesty?” The woman asked, reaching out to grasp his arm. Anduin shook his head and smiled. 

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, thank you.” He was sure that his dressed-down and haggard appearance put them off, but Anduin had no desire for company. He simply wanted to take a walk, rest, and then return to his duties… paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. 

Light, he was actually glad about not having to suffer through court with the nobles that day. 

Anduin had managed to make it on rusting limbs to the courtyard before his knees decided to give out with one last aching creak, forcing him to lean against the sturdy stone pillar that framed the open, grassy space. They were trembling dangerously, and the king feared he would faint the longer he forced himself to remain upright. 

“Anduin!” He heard his name echo from down the corridor, and managed to lift his heavy head up quickly enough to spot Wrathion. He had switched from a brisk walk to a jog, reaching the priest quickly and pulling him into his arms.

Out in the open. In front of whomever guard was patrolling the corridor. Anduin struggled to hold himself up. Wrathion took hold of his elbows and let the king use him as a crutch to stand. 

“What are you doing?!” The dragon demanded, looking down at his struggling legs. 

“I just wanted to talk a walk- please, keep your voice down.” Anduin whispered, his hand tightening around Wrathion’s bicep. 

“That’s it- come along now, you’re taking a damned nap whether you like it or not.” He decided, suddenly scooping Anduin’s legs out from under him. The king squawked and wound his arms tight around his neck out of fear of the dragon dropping him. 

“Why a nap of all things?” He asked, holding himself up far enough to stare at his companion. Wrathion’s face was pinched with concern as he made a beeline for his chambers. 

“If you saw yourself in a mirror you’d understand.” 

The rest of the walk was in silence, Anduin quietly laughing at his partner’s visible struggle to hold his weight up the stairs. Wrathion hadn’t even been carrying him that long and was already growing tired. Anduin had a whim that he too did not get much sleep the night prior, considering the fact that he once carried him on his back all the way up the steep hill to Mason’s Folly. He couldn't be _that_ heavy. 

He was placed down into the cushy mattress of his bed, his boots and socks removed and his hair untied. He turned over and faced away as the clicking of buckles and the rustle of fabric sounded from behind him. 

“Are the braces helping?” A warm hand brushed his leg, and the king smiled. 

“I forgot they were there,” Anduin laughed, “but… yes, a little bit.” 

Wrathion settled on the left side of the bed, sitting upright by his hip as he gestured to his legs. The dragon gave him an expectant stare, and the king cocked a brow. 

“Is this an elaborate scheme to get my pants off?” He asked, shoulders shaking with mirth as he tugged the loose-fitting trousers down. 

“Maybe,” Wrathion snorted, inspecting his knee. It was dark and bruised compared to the rest of his pale body, the scars around his swollen knee were puffy and red. The dragon frowned and skimmed his fingers along his knee. An old injury such as this was nothing to play with, especially when it had days where the body refused to support it. Anduin gasped and whimpered as the dragon ran his palm under his calf. The brace made it hard to keep contact with his scarred skin, but he believed a bit of heat could relax him slightly. “A bath would probably help you more than I could.” 

“I don’t  _ want  _ to take a bath.” Anduin whined childishly. Wrathion frowned, knowing that it was less about getting clean or relaxed but more about how he couldn’t move. He didn’t want to move. Wrathion sat back and pondered. 

He could heat up his internal body temperature with his magic, but he couldn’t make himself so hot as to cause pain to neither him nor Anduin… he wasn’t exactly keen on melting his own organs. But… if he could act as a sort of heating pad… maybe it would help. 

“Come here.” He carefully removed the blanket from underneath Anduin’s still form, his eyes squeezed shut and his face paler than Wrathion had ever seen. The dragon tugged Anduin onto his side, stretching out his braced leg slowly. Little noises of pain shot invisible arrows into his chest, stripping himself of his shirt and throwing it haphazardly onto the floor. He pressed his chest to the king’s back and tangled their legs together. 

He wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing his hand against the sleek brace wrapped around his middle and burying his face into his hair. Anduin seemed to be relaxing, his breaths evening out in tune with Wrathion’s, his hands trembling as they settled over the dragon’s. 

“Thank you, love.” He whispered, lacing their fingers together. 

“Always.” Wrathion grinned, holding him tight to his chest. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think please!  
> Thank you for reading <3


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